In Memoriam: The Right Thing
by NovaArbella
Summary: A collection of connected drabbles to honor those lost during Voldemort's second rise to power. The good and the bad end up in the same place at first, but where they go after that is decidedly different. Each one was willing to die for what was right. Written for the Diagon AlleyII - In Tribute to the Fallen event. - Now Complete.
1. Cedric

Cedric Diggory

I was Cedric Diggory, one of the first few people to die at the hands of the wizard known as Lord Voldemort in his quest to return to his corporeal body. He ordered me killed without a second thought, because I interrupted his plans by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Seconds before my death I'd been participating alongside Harry Potter and two other students in the first Tri-Wizard tournament to be held in hundreds of years. Harry and I had reached the end of the final maze at the same time, each deciding to share the victory, since we'd already helped each other to get to that point anyway. It seemed the fairest thing to do.

Even now, I'm not totally sure what happened next, I just know that as soon as we touched the cup, things started to happen very fast. Suddenly we had no longer been in the maze on Hogwarts grounds, we'd been in a graveyard. All I'd been able to think about was my dad. He was going to be so worried when they found out Harry and I were gone.

I can remember that Harry had been panicking badly, but I didn't understand why. I thought that, of course it was odd, but it must have been part of the tournament. We'd been told to expect the unexpected. Finding the cup through the maze must have just been one part of the challenge. I expected that we were supposed to find our way back to the castle to truly claim the prize.

Suddenly a figure had emerged from the mist and the last thing I remember hearing was a high cold voice, "Kill the spare."

There was a flash of green light and then for awhile there was just darkness. I'm not sure how long the darkness lasted, but after some time my eyes started to see again, but things felt different. When I looked at my hands, I could see right through them. There had been others like me, whom I could see right through as well. Lying some distance away, I could see my body, and slowly realized that I was dead. Right away, I'd thought of my dad again and how crushed he would be.

I saw Harry, still alive, and more scared than ever, fleeing from spells that were being cast by someone who could only be He Who Must Not Be Named. I asked Harry to bring my body back to my dad that night, it was all that could be done. After that, the other spirits and I flung ourselves at Lord Voldemort, giving Harry time to escape.

Harry brought my body back to my father because it was the right thing to do.

Now I'm here, in a place that looks something like King's Cross station. There are no conductors here to tell you when the trains will arrive, or where they go, but something is telling me that it's my time and the next one is my train. More people arrive every day. Some of them, I know and they tell me that the people who are still alive call me a hero. I'm not sure why. I'm no hero, I was just doing what was right, and I'd do it again.


	2. Sirius

Sirius Black

I was Sirius Black, Animangus, Marauder, God-father, black sheep of the Black family, wrongfully imprisoned for twelve years. My story ended during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. I know now that I fell through the Veil in the Chamber of Death when my horrid cousin Bellatrix snuck a spell under my defenses. It was something I hadn't expected. She'd never been able to sneak spells past me when we'd been children, practicing what we'd learned in school.

Surprised as I was by Bella, it was nothing compared to the surprise of dying. I didn't know what was happening at first, but now I do and I can look back and remember that it hadn't hurt as I'd always expected it would. It had been more like silk whispering over my skin as the Veil enveloped me while I passed through. I stumbled on my way and was caught before I could fall.

The hands that caught me were familiar as was the face and voice that they belonged too. Suddenly, I had been looking at a man who had been dead for as long as I'd been in prison. A man who had been a brother to me in all but blood.

"Hey Padfoot," he said casually, with a huge grin.

"Pppprongs?" I stuttered back, confused beyond belief.

It was impossible that I was starting at James Potter. Impossible because he was dead.

"Welcome to the other side, Sirius," another familiar, softer, voice said.

I whipped around, coming face to face with Lily Potter.

"Lily? How...?" I tried to ask how this was all possible, but Lily shushed me.

"It's all over, Sirius. The only thing left to do now is to wait," she said.

"Where are we?" I asked, looking around and seeing nothing but vast, fresh expanses of pure white.

"Here." James said simply, pulling Lily to his side. It was a gesture that I'd seen a thousand times, so familiar, even after all the years.

"Thank you for looking after Harry," Lily whispered as she took my hand and she and James led me away toward a bright light. It blinded me for a second before everything came back into focus again and I realized that I was in a place that looked something like King's Cross station, if King's Cross had a white glowing essence about it.

Now we just wait. Sometimes trains come here and people board and leave. No one ever gets off the new trains that arrive. People just get on and they never come back.

Someday I know it will be my time to board and leave, but for now, James, Lily, and I sit and talk, and watch as people we know pass by. Not one of us is sure why we're waiting, we just know it's not time for us to go yet.

As time goes on, more people arrive here and some stay because they also know that it's not time for them to get on the train yet. Some call me a hero when they see me, but I'm no hero, I just did what was right. I'd do it again in an instant.


	3. Albus

Albus Dumbledore

I was Albus Dumbledore, widely renowned as the greatest wizard of my age. I fabricated my own death in hopes that something inevitable would be as beneficial as it could be, to as many people as possible.

Before I died, I dedicated much of my life to things that were done for the greater good. In my time on Earth, I learned just how dangerous that term could be. Anyone can say that something is for the greater good, and many do. The problem there, though, is that not everyone agrees on what the greater good is and some people have a narrow scope, and are inherently selfish.

At one time, my own personal definition of the greater good was different than it was most recently. In my youth I was a fool, and it cost me dearly. It cost me my family and my love and left me to pick up the shattered pieces of my own life, to sally forth alone. I had a brother, but we barely spoke, so great was his hatred for me and the horrible outcomes of my youthful indiscretions.

It takes years to learn to hide away the hurt and the loneliness something like that causes. But you learn how so that you can continue to function in the world. I'm unsure if there are others out there who get good at it, but I don't feel that I ever did. Most days my woes would lurk beneath the surface, forgotten only for brief periods.

When I met a small orphan boy named Tom Riddle, I instantly felt that somehow that mere boy would play a monumental role in my life, and I'd been right. I watched Tom throughout his time at Hogwarts. Watched as he grew more and more polished and sly. To most he seemed to simply be a talented, well mannered young man, but something about him put my guard up. He'd reminded me of someone I had once known very well.

For a long time after completing his Hogwarts schooling Tom dropped out of existence, something that filled me with unease even then. When he resurfaced under a new name, with new, horrible powers and the will to use them, I knew that he could not be allowed to achieve his ultimate goals.

I spent a great many years delving into Tom's life before Hogwarts and his travels afterward. During that time I relied on the strength of many different witches and wizards to help resist Tom's plans. There were times that seemed so dark that the shining light of hope seemed all but extinguished.

My time was cut a bit short, but I hope that I left the tools with which Tom can be defeated. For some reason something tells me that it's not time to leave this shining white approximation of King's Cross yet. Someday the train will be mine and I will be able to get on it knowing that I wasn't a hero, I was just someone who finally was able to do the right thing. And I'd do it again.


	4. Rufus

Rufus Scrimgeour

I was Rufus Scrimgeour, deposed Minister of Magic. I spent most of my adult life fighting against dark magic as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic. After years of climbing though the ranks, I'd finally been appointed as Head of the Auror Department. I dedicated my life to tasks that most people would hesitate to even contemplate.

When it came to light that Cornelius Fudge had willfully ignored signs of the return of You Know Who, Fudge was made to step down and I was elected to the Minster position by popular vote. My time as popularly elected Minister of Magic was cut short when Voldemort staged a coup to take over the MOM. Afterwards he tortured and killed me as he attempted to extract information, which I refused to give.

I can look back over my time as Minister and see now that I shamefully spent time on creating the illusion of safety and control while Voldemort's lackeys lurked within the Ministry. I let appearance and reputation outweigh actual safety and am ashamed to admit that I knowingly let innocent people be arrested simply so that it looked like the Ministry had a handle on the situation.

One of the only things that I can say I am proud of during that time, is my refusal to give Voldemort the information he wanted. He tortured me mercilessly in an attempt to discover the whereabouts of Harry Potter.

Though I had no love loss for Potter, believing him to be nothing more than an arrogant, brash child who's reputation far exceeded the real thing, I couldn't ignore the fact that Albus Dumbledore put a lot of faith into the boy. He'd called him the savior of the Wizarding world. Only a fool would believe that even something as inconceivable as a teenage boy saving the world was absurd, if Albus Dumbledore thought it to be possible.

If the last thing I could do for the people I was elected to serve was to die for them, I'd been determined to see it through. I took a certain grim satisfaction in that, as Voldemort cast curse after curse on me. In between the agony, I did my best to taunt him, to try to throw him off his game. Finally, he grew weary of me and he ended it.

I'd been right on the edge of begging for death and I'm glad I was able to hold out. Afterwards, I found myself in a place that looked like King's Cross station. There was no more pain, but there also weren't many people. I could see a little knot of them scattered at the far end of the platform. A few looked strangely familiar, but I didn't have time to worry about it, there had been a train to catch.

Some people think my actions were heroic, but I just knew that withholding the information was right. It was one of the last obstacles that Voldemort needed to overcome and I was determined that I wouldn't be the one to help him achieve his goal. All and all there are things I would have done differently, but if it still came down to the same end, I'd do the right thing, all over again.


	5. Alastor

Alastor Moody

I was Alastor Moody. Ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent, believer in CONSTANT VIGALANCE, and the newest temporary resident of this... place. Whatever and wherever it is. Trains come and go here, but none of them are mine. I won't be getting on any train until someone relieves that blasted Umbridge of my magical eye. As long as I'm anchored to the living world by that eye, I'm cursed to sit and wait while I see the goings on within the Ministry of Magic. It kills me that I'm unable to do anything with the information I glean.

There are familiar faces here, people I fought beside, people I protected. Some of them pass through quickly, arriving and getting on the next train that pulls in, others linger. Some of them are waiting for someone. Some who stay ask the same questions over and over to the new ones that arrive, desperate for the day they hear what they need so that they can board and leave. Not everyone knows why they stay, they just know it's not their train yet.

Sitting around, trying to ignore what I can see through my magical eye, in a world I can't communicate with, has given me a lot of time to think. There are times when I think back on my life and wonder if it was all worth it. I don't think I'll know for sure until someone comes through here who knows what becomes of Voldemort and his blasted Death Eater scum.

I spent my entire adult life tracking down Death Eaters and bringing them to justice, sometimes at the expense of my own body parts. Some called me a hero, but I was just doing the job I was paid for. It's kind of a cruel irony that I'm stuck here like this as an indirect result of the work I'm so proud of. If I still had both my own eyes, I could get on one of these bloody trains rather than sit here staring at these glowing white pillars.

Suddenly, while staring at those pillars, I realize that my eye is seeing more than just the area outside of that pink clad devil's office. It's been pulled away from the door and I can briefly see the inside of a frilly pink office before I catch a glimpse of someone who looks like Albert Runcorn as he stuffs the eye into his pocket. For awhile there is only dark and it's quite a relief not to have to try to ignore what the eye is seeing. The darkness is soothing.

While I wait, I try to figure out where Runcorn is taking my eye and what he plans to do with it. I really don't want to imagine what fresh hell I'm going to have to bare witness too, but what am I going to do about it?

After what seems like quite a long time, the eye suddenly starts to see again and I'm looking square into the face of Harry Potter. Harry looks down sadly at my eye and I can see trees behind him. He seems to be in the woods somewhere.

A little surge of triumph bursts into my chest, because it's just good to see that old Voldemort hasn't gotten to the lad yet. It's just that much more proof to me that Dumbledore was right about him and that protecting him for so long had absolutely been the right thing to do. If asked to do it all over again, I would.

I could cry when I realize that the boy is burying my eye at the base of a gnarly old tree. Merlin bless him, the next train is finally for me. I can move on.


	6. Ted

Ted Tonks

I was Ted Tonks, Muggle-Born, husband, father, and, as far as I know, probably grandfather by now. I was murdered while resisting capture because I refused to register with the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. Forced to leave my wife and pregnant daughter, I went on the run to avoid capture and imprisonment.

I knew my wife, Dromeda would be alright, she was a pureblood after all. She may have disgraced her family by marrying me, but her blood status would still protect her. She, in turn, would protect my daughter, Dora and her unborn child.

While on the run I stumbled across Dirk Cresswell and Dean Thomas, both Muggle-Borns on the run for the same reason as me. Eventually, our little group ran into a couple of goblins, who also feared what might happen to them, if they were captured.

Right before my death, I'd been brash and foolish, using Voldemort's name after the Death Eaters had made it Taboo. Snatchers showed up before we'd gotten another hundred yards through the woods. I wouldn't give in, so they killed me.

In the blink of an eye I went from the woods to a rough approximation of King's Cross Station. At least that's the closest thing I can compare it too. It's bright, and washed out, and trains and people come and go. A few minutes after I arrived, Dirk arrived right next to me. One second I was looking around, trying to figure out what to make of the place, the next second, Dirk was by my side.

Dirk stayed with me for awhile, but eventually he got on one of the trains and he hasn't come back. He wanted me to go with him, but I've got to wait here for Dromeda. I want to make sure she's OK and I want to ride on the train with her like we did when we were kids on our way to Hogwarts. She and I belong together. So I sit here and wait. I watch the trains and the people. Sometimes I know their faces and sometimes they sit with me and talk for awhile. Almost everyone gets on a train eventually.

I know it will be a long time before Dromeda comes here, so while I wait, I think about the past and how our love had caused such a big rift between her family and herself. I know she always missed her sisters, who wouldn't be seen talking to her. Now that I'm gone, I hope they don't try to sway her back into the family. The rest of her family is too far gone and it would be far too dangerous for her and Dora and the baby. All I can do is sit here and wait for someone who might have known my family, and their fate.

I hope Dora has a little boy. I would have had a lot of fun with a grandson.

I was Ted Tonks, and I paid the ultimate price for standing up for what I believed in. I'd do it again any day because it was the right thing to do.


	7. Dobby

Dobby

I was Dobby, a free elf, and friend to Harry Potter, the greatest wizard who ever lived.

Dobby was not always a free elf, mind you. At one time Dobby worked for the Malfoy family, and they treated Dobby very badly. One day, while scrubbing floors and being ignored by his masters, Dobby overheard plans which would put Harry Potter in danger. Dobby had heard tales of the great Harry Potter for years. Harry Potter had saved the wizarding world from He Who Must Not Be Named and had made life better for even lowly house elves. Not really better for Dobby, but for many others Dobby knew.

Though Dobby knew he would have to punish himself, he'd gone to Harry Potter and tried to warn him. That's how Dobby came to know how truly great a wizard Harry Potter really was. Harry Potter treated Dobby like an equal and like a friend. No one had ever treated Dobby in such a way before. Dobby knew he had to do his very best to protect Harry Potter. Especially after Harry Potter tricked Doby's old master into freeing Dobby.

Ever since that day, Dobby's favorite clothes have been socks.

Life wasn't always easy for Dobby after he was freed, but it was still better than serving his old masters. When Dobby got a job in the kitchens at Hogwarts, it was a very happy day. While looking for a new job he had missed working and being around other house elves.

The Hogwarts elves hadn't much liked Dobby, because he was taking pay for his work, but Dobby didn't care because he was near Harry Potter and would sometimes get to see him for awhile. Dobby considered Harry Potter to be his best friend and would have done anything for him.

Dobby also got a job for his friend Winky after she was freed by her masters. Winky was ashamed by being freed and took to drinking a lot of butterbeer, but Dobby was a good friend and would take care of Winky when she would drink too much. Dobby will miss Winky.

Dobby will also miss Mr. Aberforth, another friend he made after taking the job at Hogwarts. Mr. Aberforth was always kind to Dobby when he would have to go into the pub to get Winky and stop her from drinking too much. He even gave Dobby a Christmas present once, a hat for Dobby to wear.

It was Mr. Aberforth who told Dobby that Harry Potter was in trouble. He knew that Dobby used to work in the house where Harry Potter was being held. Dobby was killed while helping Harry Potter and his friends escape from He Who Must Not Be Named, when his old mistress's sister threw a knife, hitting Dobby in the chest. Dobby died in Harry Potter's arms, in a pretty place by the sea. He was happy to be with his friends.

Now it is time to take a train away. Dobby's not sure where he's going, but he knows that he'll see all his friends again someday, when it's their time to take one of the trains.

Like his friends, Dobby always tried to do what was right. Always.


	8. Fred

Fred Weasley

I was Fred Weasley, one half of the infamous Weasley twins, member of the ridiculously large Weasley family, co-founder of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Some people call me Gred. My twin brother, George, and I invented scores of joke related items for our shop in Diagon Alley. I'm proud to say that the halls and the professors of Hogwarts are, to this day, still plagued by products I invented.

I died during the battle of Hogwarts. No one specifically killed me, I just had the misfortune of being at the wrong place, at the wrong time, when the wrong thing exploded. Kind of ironic, really, when you think about how many explosions I'd survived that were caused by me and George while we were experimenting with our product line.

Thinking about George still makes me particularly sad because I know it's going to be a long time before I see him again. I don't like it without him. Especially here at this bleached out, odd train station that looks eerily like King's Cross. I keep thinking of great jokes about the people who pass through here, but when I turn to tell them to George, he's not there. I don't like it and don't think I'll ever get used to it. All I can do about it, though, is wait. So I wait.

I miss my whole family, honestly, even Percy. Growing up in a house with seven kids and attending a boarding school where you share a room with four or five other blokes, really gets you used to people always being around. I get lonely here, watching people waiting for their trains.

Sometimes I see familiar faces and they stop and chat for awhile before it's their time to board. Sometimes they even know details about my family. I'm apparently an uncle several times over by now. One of them is even named after me. He's apparently becoming quite the jokester.

It makes me happy to hear that George is OK and was able to keep the shop running. It makes me sad that I can't be with them, but I'm still glad that my family is happy. It makes me sure that during that whole horrible long war, we were all doing the right thing.

Some people who recognize me ask me why I'm still here after all this time. I tell them the truth. I'm waiting for George. I don't want to get to where the trains are going by myself. I know I'm going to be here a long time. I'll probably even start to see some of my family here, when it's their time to move on, but I can't go yet. I have to go with George, the way it was supposed to be. He'd wait for me, I know he would.

As I sit here and wait, and talk to the other people who are also waiting, they tell me I'm a hero. I tell them I was just doing what I had to do. I just did what was right. Some ask if I'd do it again. Of course I would.


	9. Remus

Remus Lupin

I was Remus Lupin, werewolf, Marauder, husband, father, general outcast. I died fighting to make a better world for my baby boy. It meant that I fought and died for a world that had largely shunned me, but the few people who had looked beyond my infirmity to become my friends and my family were worth all of it to me.

In the mists of a war, I found love and acceptance. Though I fought against it at first, I eventually came to my senses and married Nymphadora Tonks. Together we had a baby boy that we named Teddy, after Dora's father, who we'd lost in the war.

Dora's father is here too, at this whitewashed train station. He hugged me when he heard the news about the baby. It was nice to know that he had put aside his discomfort with what I was. I know it was something that worried him when his daughter and I were first married. I don't have to worry about that now though, there are no full moons here.

Lily, James, and Sirius are here though. Seeing them all again was a wonderful surprise, considering the circumstances that brought us together. We're all waiting until our train arrives.

Shortly after I arrived, Dora did too. She and Ted wait with us. They could get on any of the trains, but they won't. While I'm glad she's here with me, it makes me sad that Teddy will grow up with just his grandmother to tell him about all the brave people who fought to make the world a better place. She'll take good care of him though. So will Harry, his god-father.

Lily, James, and Sirius said that Peter came through before I got here. They said that he couldn't bring himself to look at them and he seemed scared of where his train would take him, but it didn't seem like he really had a choice as to whether he would get on or not. They said that it seemed more like he was pulled in, struggling against some kind of invisible force which was dragging him forward.

Well, Peter had never been that brave, even after being sorted into Gryffindor. He made his choices, just as we made ours. He'll have to deal with his ultimate fate just as we all will.

I never lose hope that Harry will win. He has to. We lost too many good people in the war and the one before it. Good people with the courage to stand up and fight for what's right. Their sacrifices can't be for nothing.

I've never been a hero, in fact, quite the opposite. I've always seen myself more as a coward who does what is right simply because he dislikes the alternative. If given it to do over again, there are a few things I would change, but if it all still came down to the same end, I'd still walk willingly into the battle. I would chose love and friendship and what was right over what was easy.


	10. Nymphadora

Nymphadora Lupin

I was Nymphadora Lupin, formerly Nymphadora Tonks, Auror, mother, wife, hopeless klutz. I was killed by my aunt Bellatrix during the battle of Hogwarts. Bellatrix hunted me down through the fighting so that she could kill me. I think she wanted to hurt my mother for going off and disgracing the family by marrying my Muggle-born father and having me, one of the only non pure bloods of the Black family line.

During my time as an Auror, I did many things. I hunted down known Death Eaters, protected innocent witches and wizards, and helped to keep Harry Potter safe. My old mentor, Mad-Eye Moody, used to tell me that Albus Dumbledore had a plan for the boy and that Harry would save the world one day. Mad-Eye believed Dumbledore and I believed Mad-Eye, no matter how far fetched it seemed. In the end, you couldn't ignore the fact that Harry had already survived against Voldermort once when he'd just been a little baby.

During my time as a member of The Order of the Phoenix, I feel in love with Remus Lupin, a werewolf. I wouldn't listen to anything my family or friends said against it. If my mother could follow her heart and marry a Muggle-born wizard while her entire pure-blood family disapproved, I could certainly love a werewolf.

While my mother's family burned her off of the Black family tree, my own family grudgingly supported me when Remus and I decided to get married in the middle of the war. Shortly afterward I found out that I was pregnant. Remus panicked, fearing that our baby would be a werewolf like him, and for awhile, he left. I understood though. Remus had lived a life of hardship and rejection and feared the same thing for his son. He eventually came back, just as I knew he would.

After my aunt hunted me down and murdered me in cold blood, I found myself in a different place. Moments before, I'd been at Hogwarts while spells flew around me, the next second I was in a bright white place with large open spaces and the whistles of trains. Remus was already there, and so was my father.

Now, I sit here and wait, because Remus does. He doesn't really know why he's waiting, but my dad does. He hasn't said it, but I know he's waiting for my mother. I'll wait here with him until Remus knows that it's time to get on the train. When that time comes, I'll convince my dad to come with us. I don't want him to be alone. Mom will find him when it's her turn, but I know my mom is going to be bound and determined to stay alive as long as possible so that she can raise my son and teach him all about the people who loved him so much that they gave their lives so that he could live in a better world.

She'll teach him that a better world isn't a heroic choice, it's the right choice, one everyone should be able to make without question.


	11. Colin

AN: I've noticed quite a lot of views on this story. I'd love to hear what people think about it in a review. :)

Colin Creevey

I was Colin Creevy, Muggle-born, shutter bug, DA member, brother. I was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts. My brother and I had been in hiding with our mom and dad. We'd been forbidden to come back to the school that year because of the Ministry's new policy on Muggle-born students.

I went to the school with the rest of the DA, when Hermione Granger called us on our magical coins to help defend it. I might have been a Muggle-born, but I knew how to fight and I loved Hogwarts, I couldn't sit by while others fought for it. The adults tried to send me away with all the other lower year students, saying that we were all too young to be fighting in a war, so I snuck back in when no one was looking. I didn't care how young I was, I knew that I could assist. I hadn't spent all those months as a member of the DA to be shooed off when I could be helpful.

The battle had been large and loud and I'd been scared, but I hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor for nothing. I ran through the fight, hexing and cursing any Death Eater I saw, trying not to get into any one on one battles with anyone, because while I was brave, I also wasn't stupid enough to think that my instinct would be better than a seasoned and practiced witch or wizard. Especially not ones as merciless as everyone said the Death Eaters were.

I'm not sure who killed me, I think I was hit with a spell in the back as I dueled. Other's died that day too. I've seen them here on this weird train platform as we wait for our train. I'm not sure where we're going, but I know it's my time. Some people here seem like they've been around for a long time. Some who got here around the same time as I did don't plan on leaving right away, like I do.

I know someday I'll see my family again. Until then I'll miss them, especially, Dennis. He'd wanted to come with me when it was time to go defend Hogwarts, but I didn't let him. Someone needed to stay behind and protect mom and dad. I'm glad that they'll have each other.

I'm glad Dennis turned out to be a wizard too, so that we could go to Hogwarts together. Everyone used to say how rare it was, to have two magical Muggle-born siblings in the same family. There were other Muggle-borns in my year who would talk sadly about what a rift their magical differences were making between their siblings and themselves. I'm glad Dennis and I never had to experience that. I love my little brother.

Even though I died, I know that my death won't have been in vain. I know that even in the darkest of times, the Order and the DA will fight for what is good and right. Those Death Eaters will have to kill each and every one of them before they have their way without resistance. They are heroes and heroes never give up.

Me? I'm just Collin, and I wonder where this train will take me. I wish I had my camera.


	12. Severus

AN: This is my favorite of the whole series, I'd love to hear some opinions on it.

Severus Snape

I was Severus Snape, professor, spy, colloquially known as the greasy bat of the dungeons. (Yes, I heard the names all those years. Insufferable dunderheads.) I spent my entire adult life making up for all the horrible decisions of my youth. In the end, because life, or fate, the universe, or God – pick the one that pleases you – hates me, I died.

The Dark Lord sacrificed me without a second thought, his most loyal and useful follower, as far as he knew, because he thought that I stood in the way of his ultimate goals. He believed that I was master of the Elder Wand, for I had killed it's last owner. For the wand to truly obey his commands, he was convinced that he needed to kill me. The cruel irony of the whole situation? I was never the master of the wand.

For awhile, there is only blackness, but then I become aware that the blank darkness is starting to lighten, and shapes are starting to form. I also noticed that for the first time in a very long time, my neck didn't have a pinch in it and my stomach was no longer a burning knot. Two maladies that had plagued me since my installation as Headmaster of The Dark Lord's horrible perversion of Hogwarts.

I feel hands gently lifting me to my feet as I heard a familiar voice praising me.

"Severus, you are the bravest man I know."

I steady myself and turn to face Albus Dumbledore, who pulls me into a fierce hug.

"You were brilliant," he beamed.

"I died," I answer sarcastically, gazing around me, wondering what to make of this glowing white... train platform. I don't want to hear how proud he is of me. I'd done what I'd done for purely selfish purposes. Not because it was good, not because it was right, but because I needed to atone for my mistakes. "Where are we?" I ask

"Here," Albus answers simply.

I roll my eyes. Even in death, the old codger is a cryptic sod.

"I'll explain it all later," he said, with that blasted twinkle in his eye. "But right now, I think there is someone else here that you'll be interested to see."

He stepped aside, revealing Lily. My Lily.

My heart drops out of my chest as I gaze in wonder at her familiar face, arranged in the biggest smile I'd ever seen on it. Before I could figure out anything to do or say, Lily swiftly folded me into a hug. "Oh, Sev, thank you for protecting my son! I'm sorry I was such a horrible person that I walked away from our friendship."

They are the words that I had often dreamed of hearing. After a moments hesitation I slowly wrap my arms around her and hug her back. "You're welcome," I say stupidly, unable to come up with anything better.

A train pulls up then and I know that, if I wanted too, I could get on it, but I don't want to yet. I'm sure there will be other trains.

Almost as if she's reading my mind, Lily pulls away. "Don't go yet," she says.

I shake my head, "I'm not."

"Good, come with me." She begins leading me toward the end of the platform. On the way we pass people I recognize, sitting on the benches, presumably waiting for the train that is theirs. Lily pulls me to a small group of people and I suddenly realize who they all are.

James Potter comes up to me, looking sheepish, which is a first for him, I'm sure. "Ahh..." he starts uncomfortably. "Snivi..."

"James!" Lily says sharply, giving him an almost venomous look.

"No, no! It was a slip, I really didn't mean it," Potter exclaimed. "I meant Snape. Sorry. Anyway," he extended his hand uncomfortably. "Thank you for protecting my son. I know you did it for Lily, but still... I, er... know we didn't get along... you know... before... and I'm sorry for all of that too... Ummm... so … yeah... Thanks and I'm sorry, I guess."

I'm too stunned to speak or move. After a few seconds of me gaping at his outstretched hand like a goldfish out of water, Lily giggles and takes my hand, placing it in Potter's and shaking both up and down. "There," she says with satisfaction before turning to the other people in the group. "Now you two."

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin stand behind Potter. They look as uncomfortable as I feel. Lily heaves an exasperated sigh as she marches over and shoves each of them up to me. She then pinches Black, who yelps and mutters, "Sorry about everything," before hastily stepping away.

Lupin extends his hand as Potter did. This time I have the wherewithal to shake it, if I don't, I know Lily will just do it for me. Lupin and I look into each others eyes as we shake, and simply nod. Hopefully that will be enough for Lily.

"We can't go yet, Sev," she says simply, "but I'd love it if you'd sit here and wait with us."

Of course I'll wait, if Lily wants it.

So now I'll stay here and wait with these people who, at one point or another, had all made my life a living hell. It's going to be an... interesting experience. Even in death, I hate my life. And if Lily asked me to do it all over again, I would in an instant.


	13. Harry

Harry Potter

I was Harry Potter and right now, the world is nothing but blackness. I died when Tom Riddle hit me with a killing curse. I had to die, you see, because if I didn't, Tom wouldn't have been able to either. It had been prophesied since before I'd even been born. How's that for unfair?

Minutes before my death, I found all that out by watching Severus Snape's memories in the Pensieve. I found out that, not only was I horribly wrong about Snape, but about countless other things involving Tom Riddle and myself. It had been a bit of an overload, really.

What do you do when you find out that the only way to stop the most brutal, evil, madman who ever lived, essentially died, and then rose again, was for you to die? How do you not walk willingly to your own death when you find out that it's the only thing that will save the lives of the people you love? I'd taught them, fought with them, protected them, and in the end, I had to die for them.

Of course I went. I was terrified, but I went. I had to. It was the only way to end all the horror of Tom Riddle and his war. I had to do the right thing. What was one life compared to hundreds or even thousands? If I had to die a hundred times over to protect them all, I would.

Tom wouldn't stop with the Wizarding world. Once he had everything there the way he thought it should be, he'd move on into the Muggle world. I knew that if that happened, it would be even more brutal and bloody than his takeover of the Wizarding world had been.

As I'd marched toward my own end, I'd suddenly realized why Professor Dumbledore had given me the Golden Snitch when he'd died. The inscription on it had been completely clear then. It opened when I whispered to it that I was about to die.

He'd given me the resurrection stone so that I wouldn't have to be alone. He'd known how hard my task would be and that I would need support. Before I died, I got to talk to my mum and dad. Sirius and Remus had been there too. It had been the boost that I'd needed to go on.

I can still see the look of triumph on Tom's face when he cast the Killing Curse. In the instant before the curse hit me, I felt a certain satisfaction that my death wouldn't yield the results he thought it would. My friends wouldn't give up just because I'd died. They'd fight on. Ron and Hermione were still alive, they knew what had to happen and they would make sure that it did.

Sirius had been right, dying was easy.

If this is death, I guess it's not so bad. Even the darkness is getting a bit lighter, and there are some fuzzy shapes too. Something is happening. I guess it's the next adventure. I wonder where I'll go.


	14. Bellatrix

Bellatrix Lestrange

I was Bellatrix Lestrange, the Dark Lord's most loyal, skilled follower. I fully believed in the Dark Lords glorious ideals. Magic was for full blood witches and wizards with pure, deserving ancestry, not for inferior half-bloods, and certainly not for Mudblood scum.

After graduating from Hogwarts, I dedicated my life to his cause, doing whatever he requested of me to the very best of my ability. No one was better at extracting information or punishing opposer's to the Dark Lord's will.

When Harry Potter somehow banished the Dark Lord, all those years ago, I was among the few who knew that he couldn't have been dead. I headed the search to find him so that he could be restored to his former glory. I knew he would reward me beyond my wildest dreams for my continued devotion when many of the rest of his so called supporters went slinking back to Wizarding society, weaving stories of being Imperiused, or otherwise coerced. My own sister and brother in law being two of them.

Eventually, I was caught and thrown into Azkaban for my 'crimes.' Tell me, how can making sure that magical blood stays pure and untainted be a crime? All those fools who thought otherwise just didn't understand the risks involved when magical bloodlines became too thinned out.

When the Dark Lord rose again, he freed all his imprisoned loyal followers and I was once again by his side, doing his bidding, where I belonged. The true and faithful followers were richly rewarded. Once again we were free to pursue our dream of the perfect world. Once we had the Wizarding population in line, we were to start dealing with all the nasty Muggles out there who were oppressing us, forcing us to hide ourselves within their world.

I was there to bare witness when the Dark Lord defeated Harry Potter, who was nothing more than an unremarkable boy who'd been shielded by fools. Alone, he'd been no match for the Dark Lord.

Though I was killed in battle, by Molly Weasley, of all people, I know that the Dark Lord will be victorious. He is the most powerful wizard who ever lived, his ideals are the right ones. There's no way he can lose.

Now that I'm dead, I find myself in the oddest of places. A bright white train station that looks like King's Cross. I can see people boarding trains, but I know those trains aren't for me. Mine will be here soon.

I sneer at the other people here, some of them with familiar faces. I can see my dear late cousin, Sirius, at the end of the platform, getting ready to board his own train. His little school day friends are already on the train, trying to pull him on as well.

I know he sees me because he's watching with an oddly hungry and anticipatory look in his eye. I ignore him because, even in death, he's not worth my time. Although, I do wonder what he's still doing here, as I killed him more than a year ago. I can see Severus Snape behind Sirius, and wonder why on earth he'd be with a group of blood traitors like that. Behind Snape, seated already and waiting for the train to pull out, sits my own traitorous sister's filthy, half blood daughter. Her Muggle born father and filthy werewolf husband are with her. I find myself glad all over again that I was finally able to prune that rotten branch off the family tree before I died.

As I wait, others that I know, who are worthy of my words and attention, gather with me. We fought and died bravely for our cause and we wait to be rewarded.

Soon a train pulls up and we all know it's ours. It pulls in from the opposite direction as all the other trains I've seen so far and that fills me with an odd feeling that is something like fear. As the whistle blows, I can tell that the others around me feel it too.

I think perhaps I won't be getting on this train after all. If Sirius can still be here after all this time, I must be able to stay too.

As I try to turn and walk towards one of the benches scattered across the platform, something forcibly turns me back to the ominous looking train. The doors slide open, revealing a dull red light and slowly curling wisps of smoke. I dig in my heels, but some unseen force pulls me forward, so I struggle harder. The harder I fight it, the stronger the pull becomes. I can see the others fighting against it as well, writhing and yelling as I am.

We're all pulled onto the train and the doors close behind us. Everyone is panting in fear as the car lurches into motion and carries us away. Somehow we all know that what comes next is not going to be anything like we expected. It's getting hot and there is suddenly a smell of sulfur in the air.

How can this happen to us? We were just trying to do what's right.


	15. Tom

Tom Riddle

I am Lord Voldemort, the greatest, most powerful wizard who ever lived. Despite that fact, I find myself temporarily floundered by a mere teenage boy, not for the first time, and I don't know how he did it.

I'm sure Albus Dumbledore orchestrated it though. That meddling old busybody never could keep his crooked old nose out of my business and was always coming up with his little plans to foil my efforts. From the very first time we'd met, I could tell that he was cautious around me. I'm sure he was able to sense the great power that ran through me. I was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, after all.

All through my school days, he kept an annoyingly close eye on me, making it difficult to go about the various tasks I wanted to complete within the school before I finished my last year. Even then, as a teenage wizard, I was forming plans that would change the world and put pure-blood Wizards above all others, Muggle and magical, where they rightfully belonged.

I left the school and soon became lost to the tantalizing and powerful Dark Arts. I delved farther into their enticing embrace than anyone had for hundreds of years. When I returned to the school, years later, obviously already more powerful than any other wizard who had ever lived, Dumbledore rejected my application for the position of professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

It had been the first roadblock to my ultimate plans. I'd meant to spend my teaching years surreptitiously planting my own worldly ideals into the heads of the students of Hogwarts. It had been high time that they all were exposed to the ideas of our world as it was meant to be.

When Dumbledore had stood in the way of that plan, refusing to hire me, I'd had to slyly adjust my tactics, settling instead for cursing the professor position so that it would be all but impossible for the school to properly teach the students how to defend against the Dark Arts.

Dumbledore's blasted Order of the Phoenix was his next attempt to stop me from building a new, better, world order. His determination to stop me was laughable. Eventually I would be victorious and all who stood against my will would be properly punished.

As I rose to power, a prophesy was made regarding Harry Potter. It said that he would have powers to rival my own and would be capable of standing against me. Upon hearing that, I concluded that it would be best to simply kill the child before he had a chance to grow into his magic. I saw no use in allowing a possible equal to exsist in my world.

My near defeat by the oddest of circumstances surrounding the child, was merely another stumbling block. Near defeat is not full defeat and I managed to rise again, more powerful than ever before thanks to my extensive knowledge of the darkest of magic known to any wizard.

It soon became apparent to me what had happened when the boy's mother threw herself in front of him when I came to kill him. But it didn't matter. Again, I brilliantly solved the problem by taking the boy's blood when I returned to my corporeal body.

Potter managed to escape before I was able to kill him, but it hadn't mattered. I'd known that, when my takeover of the Ministry was complete, I would be able to turn the public against him and before long, the hope he represented would be squashed.

My Death Eaters and I were finally poised to cement my changes to Wizarding society. Our world would finally be the way it was meant to be. Everything would be right.

When it became apparent that the small and stubborn pocket of resistance that The Order of the Phoenix managed to spread was still being fueled by the idea that Potter could and would somehow defeat me, I knew that I had to do whatever necessary to lure the boy from hiding.

Not even an hour prior to arriving in the place I find myself now, I'd killed Dumbledore's precious little golden child. How he managed to come back and send me here is a mystery even to my vast and impressive intelligence.

It's not something I can wonder about much though. There isn't very much room for thought around the agony that I feel now. It's a million times worse than the first time I'd tried to kill the meddling, prophesied brat. At least then I had still felt the thin ties to the earth that my Horcruxes had afforded me.

Now I sit here in the dark, in torturous pain the equivalent of dozens of people using Cruciatus at once, surrounded by the flayed pieces of my torn soul. I've gathered them up, but I can't put them back into one piece. I can't seem to find my wand here to be able to try.

Whenever I am able to focus on anything, past the pain, I continue to wonder how Harry Potter managed to bring me to this state. The answer continues to elude me.

I'm not sure how long I'll be here, or if I'll ever escape at all. The only thing that I do know, is that this can't be it. This unending, pitch black dark pit of empty agony - where I can neither sleep nor cease thinking about things which haunt me or fill me with rage - can not be the ultimate end to the greatest wizard ever.

* * *

AN: And that's all folks! If you've read this all the way through, I'd love to hear what you think. Please R&R


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